


Know Your Alphabet

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Prompt Fic, dubious medical/forensic science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John hopes Sherlock figures out the connection soon, before he drives them all insane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know Your Alphabet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JWP #25: **So very Gorey:** Surely an artist that would tickle the modern Holmes' funnybone, and possibly would have gotten a laugh (or a long, cold stare) from the ACD original. Take your inspiration from one of the works of [Edward Gorey](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Gorey), from the man, from a random title of one of his works, or whatever else tickles your fancy.  -- I chose one of my absolute favorite books for this, and I'm not sorry. :-)
> 
>   
>  **Warnings** : Extremely dubious medical/forensic science (hellloooo, internet research!). Squicky deaths. Inappropriate humor.  **And absolutely no beta.** This was written in a complete rush. You have been warned.  
> 

  
  
  
  
  
"You’re sure about this?”  
  
Sherlock looked up from the stack of autopsy reports just long enough to pin Lestrade with an icy stare. “I thought you’d delegated inane statements to Donovan.”  
  
John blew out a quiet breath. Sherlock was in a mood and no mistake. He’d been stroppy since the second murder, which he now insisted must actually be later in a string of other killings. Having a third, completely spectacular corpse turn up while he was still trying to find the others – and while the DI tried to convince his superiors at New Scotland Yard that it wasn’t a one-off but rather part of the sequence Sherlock insisted was there, even if he couldn’t put a name to it yet – had pushed him from his usual levels of insulting to levels John hadn’t seen since their earliest days.  
  
Fortunately, Molly came into the room just then, before either Greg or Sherlock decided to escalate things as a way of venting their frustrations. “Um. I’ve just finished the preliminaries,” she announced quietly. Her eyes darted from Sherlock to Lestrade before settling on John, possibly as the least threatening person in the room. “The victim was definitely alive when placed in the tank. Judging from my findings, I would say cause of death was a combination of exposure and shock, particularly hypovolemic shock. Her core temperature at the time of admittance was…” Her confidence visibly increased as she went into technical detail. John nodded, not liking the picture she drew with her precise words. She relaxed further as neither Lestrade nor Sherlock interrupted her, but instead paid close attention to her words. “I’ve sent blood and tissue samples to the lab to check for drugs, specifically sedatives. There were no signs of defensive wounds on her hands, and I couldn’t find any physical evidence that she’d tried to climb out of the enclosure, either. It’s as if she just laid there and let herself be covered by leeches.”  
  
John grimaced.  
  
“Be sure to check for pancuronium bromide. If you find it – and you will – that will definitely link her to the first victim.” Sherlock’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the prospect of physical proof.  
  
“What, the fellow found chewed up in the bear enclosure at the private animal reserve?” Lestrade ran one hand through his hair. “It doesn’t track, Sherlock. Your so-called first victim was male, and so was the second, the one we found under an antique Victorian sleigh. But he didn't have pancuronium bromide in his system. And now we have a woman victim, who might or might not have been drugged. How do they all relate? What connection are you seeing, besides the bizarre nature of the deaths and unusual – but very different – crime scenes?"  
  
"Wait, what?" Molly's startled exclamation went unheard by Sherlock and Greg, who started arguing vigorously over the connection Lestrade couldn't see, and Sherlock could only half-define. John heard it, though, as well as her follow-up question. "A bear, a sleigh, and now leeches?"  
  
"That's what Sherlock thinks; that they're all connected, although I don't think even he knows what the connection is yet.  
  
Molly's eyes went wide, and then she took a deep breath and started to recite.  
  


> _A is for Amy who fell down the stairs_   
>  _B is for Basil assaulted by bears_   
> 

  
  
  
  
John reached over and grabbed Sherlock's arm. The man froze mid-word, his attention immediately locking onto Molly, who continued to speak in a high, almost child-like chant, her eyes now closed in concentration.  
  


> _C is for Clara who wasted away_   
>  _D is for Desmond thrown out of a sleigh_   
> 

  
  
  
  
"What the hell?" Greg muttered in an undertone.  
  


> _E is for Ernest who choked on a peach_   
>  _F is for Fanny sucked dry by a leech_   
> 

  
  
  
  
Molly opened her eyes to find all three men in the room staring at her as if she was possessed. She blinked and one hand started toying with the lapel of her lab coat. "It's the Gashlycrumb Tinies."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Gashlycrumb Tinies. It's a sort of picture book, I guess you'd call it, by Edward Gorey. An illustrated alphabet of children who meet unfortunate ends."  
  
Lestrade made a face. "That's sick."  
  
Molly laughed nervously. "Actually, some of them are pretty funny in a macabre sort of way. My favorite was always _N is for Neville who died of ennui."_  
  
That was kind of funny, John had to admit it, unlike the situation. If Molly was right, this woman was the sixth victim, not the third.  
  
"We haven't been able to identify any of the victims – the ones we know about," Greg said slowly. "If he's picking people with names to match…"  
  
"Molly Hooper." Sherlock gave her an incandescent smile. "You are brilliant." Molly blushed fiercely, but Sherlock had already turned his attention to John. "We need a copy of that book right away."  
  
"I've seen it at Waterstones," Molly suggested.  
  
John already had his phone out, although his goofy thumbs were making a hash of trying to search. "How do you spell it, Molly?"  
  
"Like it sounds. G – A – S – H – L – Y – C –R –"  
  
"Yes, yes," Sherlock interrupted. "That's good – but what's _next_?"  
  
Molly tilted her head, then said: " _G is for George smothered under a rug._ "  
  
"Right." Sherlock grabbed his coat from where he'd set it over a chair. "Come on, John, Lestrade. We've a book to buy, former victims to find, and a smothering to prevent." He smiled once again at Molly. "And flowers to order, for a lady who knows her alphabet."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 25, 2013


End file.
